


mad genius's love song

by madameofmusic



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M, Universe Alteration
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-27
Updated: 2017-09-24
Packaged: 2018-12-20 10:33:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,398
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11919051
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/madameofmusic/pseuds/madameofmusic
Summary: Tony meets Loki in Asgard, and is more fascinated by the work he does than the man himself. This changes very quickly.





	1. 0 Months, 0 weeks, 0 Days

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So here’s the first part of a FrostIron fic I started almost five years ago, for [@wipweek](https://wipweek.tumblr.com/). Today's prompt was "Oldest WIP," and while that's not technically true, I did start this almost five years ago, so it's close enough. I don't know when I'll have the next part up.
> 
> This fic is working with Avenger's era material and nothing past that, and Coulson is alive and well because they should have never let him die in the first place. Eat me, Joss Whedon. 
> 
> Anyway, please excuse any weird stuff, as this first chapter is an edit of the old fic. Subsequent ones will be better. Bare with me. 
> 
> Title is based on "Mad Girl's Love Song" by Sylvia Plath. Unbeta'd, so all mistakes are my own.

Asgard was warm, and smelled like home, like his  _ childhood home, _ wherever he went, which Tony figures is some yet-unknown to him technology here. He’s standing against the wall next to Cap, mug of some sort of cinnamon smelling alcohol in his hand. No one seemed unhappy in Asgard, men and women flocking together, flirting, chatting, and generally enjoying themselves. It makes sense for gods, he supposed. Asgard was like the myths he had heard about Olympus, only tangible, real.

Thor had tugged all of the Avengers along, as some sort of diplomatic mission between his team and his kingdom to-be's subjects. Tony was all for getting drunk with a bunch of gods, but he was under strict orders not to just that, and to always have either Cap or Coulson by his side just in case he ran his mouth too much or offended one of the Asgardians. Tony’s drinking wasn’t a problem until it was, and the team was determined to make sure that didn’t happen tonight, not for something so important and so easily ruined by one off-color comment.

So there he was, standing against a wall, barely even buzzed, and bored. Cap and Coulson both had decided it was better just to keep Tony away from the main fray of people, which, if you asked Tony (no one ever did), made him look standoffish and rude.  _ Better that than pissing off an immortal with superpowers who had no qualms about banging around a puny human, _ Coulson had said, cool and businesslike in typical Coulson fashion.

Except _ Clint  _ was allowed to talk to the Asgardians, and he was just as obnoxious as Tony, only less drunk. It had to be punishment for their last mission, for Tony running away from the medbay and blowing up a building to take down their latest problem. No one had been hurt, and Stark Industries repaid the owner of the building plus some for damages,  _ and _ he’d single-handedly saved the day, so Tony wasn’t quite sure what gave. Something about following orders and teamwork, most likely. Stuff Tony shouldn’t have to care about when he was funding the Avengers and had billions of dollars in tech at his fingertips to keep him and his teammates safe. 

Way more than some fuckin’ shield, that was for sure.

Tony sighed and set his mug down on the ground. “I’m gonna go locate a bathroom Cap, gotta take a piss.” He pushed off from the wall, and shoved his hands in his pocket, trying to unsaddle the discomfort from his shoulders.

Steve hooked Tony’s arm with a large hand, stopping him from moving any further. “Come straight back. Don’t make any trouble.” He said, giving Tony one of his patented “I’m-Already-Disappointed-In-You” frowns, that only ever seemed to be directed at him. 

Tony rolled his eyes. “I will. Stop worrying. I’m on my best behavior.” He tried to look as innocent as possible as he stared up at Cap.

Steve sighed a sigh of the long-suffering and relinquished his grip on Tony’s arm. “Straight back. No detours.” He repeated, and Tony nodded.

Finding a bathroom, however, was not what Tony intended to do at all. Explore Asgard’s halls, yes. Come back in a timely manner? No. He figured he could avoid any interdimensional relations by avoiding any of the party-goers. He just wanted to look around the castle, palace, whatever Thor called it, a bit, and maybe figure out how their science worked here. Engineer stuff.

He wandered around for a bit, admiring the architecture of the place. It was beautiful, really. All curved angles and shining pillars looped in fine, golden filigree. Before long though, he realized that a significant amount of time had passed, far more than it would take to find a bathroom in this place and use it. Cap was going to be pissed.

This wasn’t as concerning as what he realized next, which was that he had absolutely no idea where he was. All the halls looked similar, and he’d wandered a bit too far away to even catch the barest hints of party sounds.

Twenty minutes or so later, he was even more lost than before, and the warm marble flooring had turned into cold stone. He was so, so screwed. Cap would scold him, and Coulson would give him the look, and they would both sigh and someone would tell Fury, and he’d be given an even shorter leash next time for “wandering off” or being a possible “PR nightmare.”

In the midst of his own thoughts and his inner monologue that was always running, no matter what, he bumped into something. And that something was not something but in fact some _ one _ .

And that someone was tall, far taller than himself, by like, four inches at least, and he looked… Intense? Frightening? Confused, too, he thought, if the deep furrow of his brow was anything to go by.

“Hi there. Stark, Tony Stark.” He stuck out a hand, and the stranger took it with a cautious arch of an eyebrow. He was definitely Asgardian, judging by his clothing and his demeanor, but Tony figured he must have been a servant or a worker here. His clothes, not gold and bronze like the rest of the Asgardians Tony had seen, but instead deep green and grays, were made of fine material. A servant to the king himself, perhaps. “I must have gotten a little lost on the way to the bathroom.” He looked around the stranger, and at the floating board behind him, on which was scrawled what looked like calculations.

“Loki.” The man, Loki, dropped his hand. “Do you need help finding your way back?” His voice was tinged with the British-esque sounding accent that was common in Asgard.

Tony shrugged. “Eventually.” He stepped around Loki, and took in the full brunt of the equation, or at least what he could. For the first time in a long time, he was looking at something he didn’t fully understand. “What is this?”

“An equation.” Loki looked uncomfortable and slightly tense. “I’m… working on some things for the doctors here.” 

Tony nodded. “Interesting.” He turned back to Loki. “Explain it to me.” 

Loki stared at him and then sighed. “Alright, see here?” 

By the end of an hour, Tony found he still was confused about the math, but slightly less so. It was advanced, and Asgardian physics was slightly different than that of Earth, so the equation was harder that it would have been otherwise. 

“Okay, okay.” Tony looked at his pocket watch, analog, since there was something about digital watches that went a little bit screwy, is Asgard according to Jane, and sighed. “I need to find my way back to the party. We’re probably leaving soon, and I don’t want to portal away without the rest of my squad.”

Loki, whose shoulders had loosened over the course of their conversation, nodded once. “I can lead you back.” 

The walk back was short, and they traded ideas about Loki’s equation. Tony wished he could stay more, figure out this dimension’s science. But, it was unlikely he’d be back for awhile, or at all, considering the length of time he was gone. 

Cap was fuming when he stepped into the hall, trailing behind Loki. At their appearance, the hall quieted for a second, and then the sounds of revelry resumed, albeit more muted and cautious. Loki looked out of his league, and more than uncomfortable.

Thor stepped over right as Cap was opening his mouth, probably to chastise him, and clapped a hand on Tony’s shoulder. “Ah, Man of Iron, I see you’ve found my brother.” 

Tony looked sharply up at Loki, and then back at Thor. They were as similar as the sun and moon. “Adopted,” Loki supplied, his jaw tight and shoulders hunched. “If I may-”

Thor waved a hand at him. “Back to your studies as always, my brother.” They watched Loki walk briskly from the hall, the door shutting with a loud thump behind him. 

“Where  _ were _ you, Tony?” Cap still looked pissed. “If you said anything to offend him-”

Tony sighed. “Cap, I’m not a kid. I’m smart enough to keep my mouth shut when I need to.” Cap snorted. “He was showing me math.” 

Cap looked confused now. “Math?” 

Thor chimed in. “My brother is an esteemed arithmetist. I’m sure he welcomed the company.” 

Tony shrugged. “He seemed nice.” 

Thor smiled, a myriad of emotions mixed across his expression. “Nice, Man of Iron, is not the word I would use.” 

Tony was stopped from asking what  _ that  _ meant by Cap telling both of them they needed to get a move on, as SHIELD had their next mission planned for early the next morning, and they still needed to gather the rest of the team. He followed orders, and they were back with the Asgardian Heimdall in the Bifrost room outside of the palace within the hour, his earlier transgression seemingly forgotten since no trouble had come of it. 

He resisted the urge to ask Thor more about Loki, and Asgard, and his confusion about the connection between the two, and let the Bifrost take them back to New York.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> find me on [tumblr](http://whiskeytangofrogman.tumblr.com/)


	2. 0 Months, 2 Weeks, 4 Days

Tony  _ felt  _ his ribs break when Doom’s minions tossed him against a wall, like he was nothing more than an annoying gnat, despite the weight of his suit.  _ Fucking Victor _ . 

“Isn’t this supposed to be the Fantastic Four’s jurisdiction? Doom’s  _ their  _ archnemesis,” Tony said, trying to pretend like his entire left side wasn’t lit up with pain like a Christmas tree. 

“They’re on vacation in another realm, so it’s on us.” Clint’s voice echoes through the comms, and wobbles back and forth through Tony’s head, like Clint was moving his mouth closer to, and then further from, his mic. Tony was losing consciousness, and no, that wouldn’t do.

“Why not the X-Men?” Tony asked, trying to figure out a way to breathe that didn’t make his entire chest feel like someone had dropped a match in the middle of it. 

“Busy.” Cap’s voice took over, and the vague sounds of gunshots echoed in the background. “Stop complaining, and do your job.”

Tony rolled his eyes. “Ever the spoilsport, Cap,” he said. Tony braced himself and stood. He wobbled as his vision went black with pain, and he hissed out a low groan. He prayed it wasn’t loud enough to be picked up by his suit, but with no luck. “Everything okay, Stark?” Natasha, now.

“Fine. Just took a tumble.” Tony lifted a hand, the other pressed to his side, and released a beam at a nearby bot. The bot fell, and so did Tony, back to the ground, more in pain than he was moments before. Not that he felt it, of course, because was unconscious before he hit the ground, dead to the world, and to the concerned, and then panicked voices of his teammates at his radio silence.

He woke up in a hospital bed a week later.

As it turned out, getting thrown against a wall didn’t feel very good, at all. And, despite the suit and all of its inbuilt padding and shock absorbers, he still ended up with 3 cracked ribs, a sprained wrist, and a multitude of contusions and lacerations. The doctors said he was lucky more hadn’t gone wrong, and that his condition was, to put it lightly, concerning. 

As Clint had put it, he was “super fucked up.”

The upside was that he now knew  _ exactly _ what needed improving on the suit. 

All Tony remembered after going down the first time was being slung (gently) over Hulk’s shoulder, and brought to SHIELD’s med-bay. And then, very briefly, being checked into the hospital. After that, everything else was in small bits and pieces as he faded in and out of wakefulness.

He was in and out of consciousness for almost a week straight. He saw Cap several times, Clint was a near-constant by his bedside, and Bruce showed up as much as he could. Hospitals, Tony knew, did not mix well with Dr. Banner, and he was touched the man had shown up as much as he had.

He saw Thor a few times as well, and he was almost positive Natasha was constantly there, yet out of sight. As far as he knew, Coulson never showed, though that might have been because he was injured as well, though according to Clint it was “only a little gunshot wound.” 

Pepper would have come more, he found out later, except she spent the week assuring the world at large that despite how  _ nasty _ Iron Man’s conditions seemed, he was in good hands and would be discharged soon.

The rest of his hospital memories, as few and far between as they were, consisted of being carted around various floors on a gurney and put into a multitude of rooms for tests, scans, and consultations that he didn’t remember the subject of. 

Tony woke up a week into his hospital stay, in the middle of the night, feeling more lucid than he had for the seven days previous combined. He felt much the same as he had for the last week, pained and exhausted. But for the first time, there wasn’t a fuzz of drugs coating his awareness, and instantly he was acutely aware of a more localized pain that didn’t seem like it could be very good at all.

There was someone in his room. It wasn’t Clint, who was still slumped over in the corner chair, asleep. They were too tall to be Natasha, and not broad enough to be Thor. 

“Hello?” Tony’s voice croaked, and he coughed. Clint didn’t stir, and it was then that Tony noticed how abnormally silent the room was, how it was tinged with the slight crackle that Tony had come to associate with people like Doctor Strange. Magic. “Look, if you’re here to finish me off, could you do it quick? I’m in enough pain as it is.” 

The figure laughed softly and stepped into the pool of moonlight at the end of Tony’s hospital bed. It was Loki, the man he’d met in Asgard, and, as he’d come to learn later, Thor’s brother. Tony frowned. “Hi?” 

“Hello, Stark,” Loki said, walking closer. “My brother told me of your injuries.” His hands were clasped behind his back, and he looked much the same as the last time, the only time, Tony had seen him. “I came here to offer my assistance.” 

Tony narrowed his eyes. “I’m doing fine, enough, I think.” He tried to sit up and bit his lip to keep from crying out. The pain in his side had only grown sharper, and hotter, since the last time he’d been awake. “Or I will be, soon.” 

Loki frowned and looked over Tony’s body. “You are dying.” He looked back at Tony and met his eyes. “Have they not told you? You punctured your left lung, and it’s become infected.” 

Tony swallowed, hard, and tried to ignore the way even that minor movement set his side ablaze. “I’m fine. They’ll heal me.” 

Loki pursed his lips. “They’ve tried, and they’ve failed.” 

Tony shook his head and gasped. “Fuck,” he whispered, clenching the blanket that lay over his lap between his fingers. His entire body ached, and he was exhausted, despite having slept for a week straight now. “How were you planning to help?” 

Loki arched an eyebrow. “Magic. How else?” 

Tony rolled his eyes. “Magic isn’t real.” 

“Magic, Stark,” Loki started, laying his hands on Tony’s body and pressing in hard enough to make Tony cry out. “Is just science we don’t understand, yet.” 

And, almost instantly, the pain receded, leaving an uncomfortably warm feeling in its wake, like someone had left the heat on just a little too high. He tried to sit up once more, bracing himself for sharp pain. 

He felt nothing. Or, rather, he felt like he did after every battle. Achy, and worn, but alive and well. “How did you do that?” 

Loki waved his hand through the air, and let the smallest of smiles turn up the corners of his mouth. “Magic.” With that, he disappeared like he’d never been there in the first place, leaving in his wake the unnatural silence, which was slowly being replaced by the sounds of the hospital. The beeping from his machines was back, as well as Clint’s quiet snoring. 

Tony blinked and rubbed his eyes. Had that been a hallucination? He touched his side and winced, expecting pain and receiving none. He pressed harder, and only felt the ache that came from every battle and that strange, tingly warmth, and not the sharp heat he’d woken up with.

When he awoke the next morning, his doctors took him in for another round of tests, not believing his story about an Asgardian coming in the middle of the night and healing him. 

But his wounds were gone, the infection had up and disappeared like it’d never been there in the first place, and he was, for all intents and purposes, fine. 

When he told Thor about Loki healing him, Thor laughed. “Man of Iron, my brother is not that selfless,” Thor said, clapping a hand on Tony’s shoulder. “It’s not in his nature. Take this miracle as it is, a miracle, and nothing more.” But Thor’s words sounded hollow, like there was more he wasn’t saying. 

Tony let it be, but swore the next time they were in Asgard, he’d thank Loki for healing him, because despite Thor’s assertion about Loki’s character, Tony knew differently.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New chapter! I'm gonna try to get one of these up every two weeks, but I'm also a student with a crazy schedule, so that may be up to whatever I've got on my plate. 
> 
> Next chapter is Real Plot, y'all.


	3. 6 months, 1 week, 4 days

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey look everyone! Real plot!

As it turned out, the next time Tony saw Loki wasn’t in Asgard, but in his own home. 

“My brother is coming to visit,” Thor announced on a Sunday afternoon, apropos of nothing.

Tony looked up from the project he was working on, a new repulsor design for the suitcase suit that built charge while idle, and met Thor’s eyes with a quizzical look. “O… kay?” 

Thor stared at him. “What do I… I mean, what do you want? From me?” Tony tapped the screwdriver he was holding against the metal of his prototype, confused, and wanting nothing more than to get back to what he was doing, which was infinitely more important than Thor’s brother. Not that Tony wasn’t in great debt to Thor’s brother, but he had priorities for right that second that didn’t include the second prince of Asgard. 

“He’s coming tomorrow.” Thor continued to stare at him, like he was expecting something. A single blonde eyebrow went arching upward as Tony stared back.

“Okay, look,” Tony said, standing. “I’m lost. What do you want from me here? You want like, a guest room? Some fancy food to be delivered?” 

Thor’s lips cracked into a smile, and he let out a hearty laugh. “You, Man of Iron, are as dense as your namesake.” 

“What-”

Thor interrupted him with a clap on the shoulder. “I simply request you have dinner with us and the rest of our party. My brother is here as an Asgardian ambassador, and thus will be staying with me in my quarters, along with his entourage.” Thor squeezed Tony’s shoulder, and let go. “He won’t be gone. But Fury has told me I should let you know.” 

Tony rubbed his shoulder ruefully, still feeling the bruises from a fight a week back now agitated by Thor’s… Thor-ness. Sometimes, he felt the more…  _ inclined _ of the group forgot about how painfully human he was outside of his suit. “I appreciate it.” 

Thor clapped his hands together, and let loose a wide smile. “Thank you, Tony. Loki will be pleased to know he is so welcome in your home.” 

With that, Thor strode out of the workshop, leaving a confused, and slightly alarmed Tony in his wake.

  
  


“Tony.” Cap strode into the lab, using the access code he really wasn’t supposed to know despite Tony’s best ministrations. 

“Uh-huh.” Tony didn’t look up, choosing to stay hunched over his desk as he had over much of the last eight hours straight. There was… a bug, somewhere, and he was determined to find it. 

“Tony.” Cap’s voice grew more impatient, and Tony could tell he was wearing his Disappointed Captain face.

“What’s up?” Tony asked, wrenching a piece of the chassis off of his creation, and shining a penlight inside.

_ “Tony,” _ Cap barked, smacking a hand down on the table. “We have visitors.”

Tony’s head snapped up, and he locked eyes with Thor, and Loki, who was watching him with clear amusement on his face. Tony wiped a hand down over his face, trying to clear it of grease, with probably very little luck. “Hey, sorry. Tricky machinery, you know?”

Loki inclined his head. “I am familiar with the concept.” He stepped forward from behind his brother, and met Tony’s handshake. “My brother speaks highly of your workshop. He said I would appreciate it.” 

Tony raised an eyebrow, and looked around Loki to Thor, and Cap. “Did he now.” 

Thor laughed. “I believe my exact words were that my brother would enjoy the chaos.” 

Tony grinned, and looked back at Loki. “Well, feel free to look around.”

Loki nodded once, and wandered over to Dum-E’s powered down form. Cap locked eyes with him, and gestured at Tony’s clothing as he spoke. “Dinner will be ready here soon.” He looked pointedly at Tony, and mouthed  _ change your clothes _ .

Tony rolled his eyes, and waved his hands. “We’ll be up.” He locked the door behind his teammates, and turned back to his workbench. 

“What is this?” Loki interrupted a few minutes later, pulling Tony out of his mumbling to himself. 

Tony looked up, and waved his soldering iron through the air. “It’s uh, thing. Weapon thing? For Nat.” He waved his hand at the test dummy he’d pulled into the shop, and mimed like he was flicking a trigger on. “Try it.”

Loki gave it a once over, and turned the small object on with a zap. “Just point and shoot.” Loki nodded, pointed the weapon at the dummy, and let off a quick round. The sound of a loud  _ whoomp _ echoed through the shop, and the smell of burnt plastic rose through the air. “It’s a little too strong still.” Loki looked at the machine for a second, and then flicked it back off, and set it back on the workbench.

The display in front of Tony lit up with a message, which JARVIS read out loud. “The captain says ‘Please don’t blow up an Asgardian prince.’” 

Tony cackled, and turned off the soldering gun he was holding to type back a response. 

“Who was that?” Loki asked, wandering over with a frown. “I saw no one come in.”

Tony sent off the message, and stood up from his stool, hands brushing over his clothing in an attempt to dust himself off. “JARVIS. He’s my helper. He’s artificial.” 

Loki looked around the workshop, almost as if trying to locate JARVIS. “He’s in the walls. No physical form and all that.”

Loki hummed. “Magnificent.” 

Tony nodded, and headed for the door. “We should probably get going. I’ll show you the way.” 

Loki followed, and Tony spouted off facts and figures about the tower, and JARVIS, and everything in between, which Loki listened to with rapt attention. 

Tony led Loki back to the main dining area, and then popped off to change into something Cap would approve of more than old Levi’s and a stained AC/DC shirt. Sure enough, when he joined the rest of the team, plus the Asgardians, Cap shot him a grateful look.

There were four more people than Tony expected, and who he vaguely recognized but couldn’t place. The men introduced themselves as the Warriors Three, and the woman Sif. Tony remembered being introduced to them all those months ago at the Asgardian party. They were all frighteningly beautiful, something which Tony believed might just be how Asgardians were at this point. “They’re my entourage.” Loki explained from his seat next to Tony. The Avengers were scattered amongst the Asgardians, and they had left two seats right at the end of the table for Tony and Loki when they returned. 

“More like your babysitters!” Thor said from across the table, grinning Loki. 

Loki’s expression soured. “It’s not my fault our father thinks me incapable of diplomacy for some unknown reason.” His voice was tight, and Tony could see the knuckles of the hand gripping his fork turning white. 

“Dads suck. It’s a universal constant.” Tony said, nonchalantly, hoping it would ease whatever tension grew between Thor and Loki. “My dad had to die before I was able to go in front of anyone professional and speak for myself.” He made sure to keep his tone light, adding a laugh after the statement, hoping they understood he was, if not kidding, at least not broken up about it.

This brought a snort of laughter from Thor, and a hesitant chuckle from Loki. “The All-Father would rather die than let his sons be diplomats,” Thor said, sharing a different sort of look with Loki, yet still one Tony lacked the context for. 

All he knew of their upbringing is that they had been close, and were not as much now. And that Loki wasn’t Thor’s brother by blood, but he was still considered the second prince, due to inherit the throne if Thor could not. 

“The All-Father thinks himself immortal, but will not leave his realm,” Loki muttered, wiping at his lips with his napkin. “If you’ll excuse me-”

Just then, a sound like a phonebook ripping in half brings the table chatter to a standstill. Loki stops, half standing, and they watch as a portal opens in the dining room. It’s crackling with magic, and it makes the room smell like ozone. 

_ Whatever it is _ , Tony thinks,  _ it can’t be good.  _ He’ll need to have Strange come back and update the wards on the tower.

A woman steps out, Asgardian by the looks of her. She looks frayed, panicked, like she’d been sprinting for awhile before coming through the portal that very much shouldn’t have been able to appear. 

Loki and Thor both stand, frowning, and go to speak. 

“My princes.” She bows quickly, before they can speak, and delivers her message, out-of-breath, anxious. “The All-Father’s crown. It’s gone.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay couple updates: One, the pairing tag for this changed, which leads me to Two, I’m turning this into a series, because this fic didn’t want to go into shipping territory yet but I did so I’m adding more.
> 
> Three, there should only be like, max seven chapters after this, maybe less. Probably less. And then I have some uhh prologue sidefic stuff? That I will be putting out while I develop the next plot chapter in the series. So I hope you like that!
> 
> Four, thanks to everyone who’s been reading for far. This has very quickly become my favourite thing to write, and I’m glad that after seven years (!) of it sitting in my WIPs, I’m finally putting it to use. New update in two weeks, come talk to me on tumblr (or give me prompts if you're so inclined) here. Thanks!


End file.
